


Gotham's Dollhouse

by DollieVile



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: BDSM, Blood and Gore, Drug Use, F/M, Joker X OC - Freeform, Joker x Original Character, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Suicide Squad Joker, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-19 20:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20663069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollieVile/pseuds/DollieVile
Summary: This is a story about a woman named Dahlia Steele, or better known as The Steel Doll in the streets of Gotham. Few know her name and even fewer know her face. She's kept it that way for years, flying under the radar to keep hold of the business she has so carefully cultivated from nothing. Though, what happens when she meets none other than The Joker himself by circumstance? Will he let her go? Or will he keep her close for his own amusement?





	1. When The Final Levee Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:** Major character death. I don't really feel all that bad about it.
> 
> I own nothing from the DC Universe. I'm just using them to make my fantasies come true. All of the Original Characters are mine though.

****

#### 

**April 15th, 3:11 a.m.**

How could it have gone so wrong? What was so different about this night that could lead to such a disaster? Had it been the plan? It couldn’t have been, they had pulled off more difficult heists with beaten bodies and a certain cowled figure hot on their heels. Was it the stormy weather? No, certainly not, Harls had landed wider jumps than that in the snow. She never missed. 

Only this time, she did. They had been making their grand escape from some irrelevant bank, full duffel bags in tow, taking to running along the roof tops to the hidden get away van in an alleyway. It was easier this way. Pigs couldn’t fly after all, and they could. She had been laughing, no shrieking, with delight. The pouring rain making her make-up smear and her pigtails lose their curl. He had been close behind, chasing after her, cackling all the way. He’d never admit it to anyone else aside from her, but he loved it when she looked like that. She looked so perfect when she was completely disheveled. He lived for moments like this, instigating madness, making Gotham quake, Harley dancing at his side. These moments are what kept him alive. To his horror, all of it was obliterated in seconds. So fast he couldn’t comprehend it. 

On April 15th, at 3:06 in the morning Harleen Quinzel went to jump off the edge of a building to another. However, when she went to forward her foot hit a loose patch and she fell. Normally she would catch herself on something, or roll to lessen the impact. This was not one of those times, she over corrected, and before she could realize her mistake, her neck slammed perfectly on the lip of a dumpster causing it to break with a loud CRACK! 

The scene in its entirety continued to play on repeat in slow motion through Joker’s mind while he held Harley’s lifeless body to his own. A blood curdling roar ripped its way through his throat as he tried to figure out why and how it could have happened. He didn’t understand. Then he fell silent as, raging sliding in so fast and cold it burned. He couldn’t save her. Hell, he couldn’t even avenge her. She was just, gone. 

Joker’s henchmen circled around him, shocked into silence and grief for their fallen Queen. Joker may be the Clown Prince of Crime, but Harley Quinn had always been a Queen. None of them moved, even though they knew they should. They were ahead of the police, but soon they would catch scent of their location. Despite this fact no one moved, no one spoke. They were well aware that if they disturbed Joker before he collected himself, there would be Hell to pay. 

Except for that one special idiot, "Sir, we really need to get go-," The poor imbecile didn't even finish his sentence, Joker pulled out his custom purple and gold-plated pistol quick as a whip and shot him dead. Everyone flinched as the body thudded to the wet ground while Joker re-holstered his gun. Gingerly, he picked up his lover’s cold, limp body, bridal style. He took a moment before finally speaking, his voice a low rasping growl, "Anyone else? No? Good. Let's go. Kill anybody who gets in the way. Especially Batman. I am not in the mood to play with that buffoon tonight." With that he turned around, walking swiftly through the continuous storm to their planted getaway van, escaping off into the night. 

That was night the final levee snapped in the dam of The Joker’s mind. From there onward he descended even further into madness. Something no one thought possible. But it was, and because of that, no one in Gotham had been able to sleep peacefully since.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Harley fans I had to do it. I swear it's not because I don't like her. It just makes for a more dramatic Joker.
> 
> This is just a start to this mad tale! So please, if you enjoy it, comment and let me know! I love feedback and critique! If there's something you want to see further down the line, let me know know that too, it might make it's way in there if I like it.


	2. Can of Worms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:** Someone dies. Again. Seriously, more death than Tokyo Ghoul. It's like a whole Death Parade. All the anime puns.
> 
> Anyways I hope you guys enjoy this story. I really do. There will be fluff and romance, way in the future, but there will be a lot of dark parts. 
> 
> I don't own the DC Universe characters or anything in it. I just merely borrowed them for a short period of time.

****

####  ****

**

Two Years Later 

**

****

#### 

**June 21st, 8:15 p.m.**

Dahlia gripped the wheel of her black Convertible Corvette Stingray till her knuckles went white and started to ache. Top down, she sped through the streets of downtown Gotham, her long lightning blue hair flying around her. It was times like these she was glad she had chosen to be an inconspicuous criminal instead of some flash villain. She could fly by in the shadiest parts of the city and no one would question it. Passerby would think she was just some reckless idiot instead of what she really was. Dahlia Steele was the head of an underground drug ring that marketed in products with aesthetic twists. Some of which Dahlia invented and manufactured herself. Even though she had only started her business about five years ago, the high demand of her wares quickly pushed Dahlia to the top of the drug game, allowing her to sit in the lap of luxury. The bluenette owned her own club, drove expensive cars, funded her own research, and while her clothing style was unique, it was all designer. 

All of this was made possible because Dahlia played the game smart. She kept her appearance and real name anonymous. Going by the pseudonym The Steel Doll on the streets, she only let her true self be known to her most trusted employees and business partners. Not even her most valuable of customers would recognize her if she passed them by. They liked it that way though, it played along with the aesthetic. Dahlia also made sure not to impede on others’ territory, sticking solely to that which had been unclaimed, and not sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. 

For years, she had busted her ass to climb in the ranks while not being seen or noticed by Batman or that fuckhead Jim Gordon. Sure, they knew she existed, they knew about her alias, The Steel Doll. They just hadn't had reason to pay much attention to her, not when there were constantly bigger fish to fry. She dealt with drugs and didn't make a big fuss when she had to deal with people. Bodies were a lot easier to get rid of than people would think, it just takes a little more time and patience than dumping them in The Gotham Harbor. They didn't even know she had a body count. She didn't go out terrorizing civilians and causing mayhem. All of that mixed with being compared to villains like The Joker, Poison Ivy, or The Riddler. She didn't even blip on their radar and she would prefer to keep it that way. She never reached out to strike any deals with them, she hadn't planned on it, and she minded her own business, so they left her to her own devices. 

That is, until today. Today, she was sure all of that would change. Vincent, fucking Vincent, just had to go over her head to try and do business himself. Vincent had been Dahlia’s friend since they were just punk teenagers running through the streets. He was a scrawny guy, with a long face, buck teeth, and wispy brown hair. He’d always been kind of awkward, but he was lovable, and when Dahlia had started her business, she didn’t hesitate in making him her right-hand man. A choice she was quickly realizing was a mistake. 

Vincent had been trying to convince her to seek out one of the more well-known villains for months. Going on and on about how it would help them grown and earn them more money. The guy was awkward and lovable, sure, but he wasn’t business savvy. He didn’t have the keen eye or the foresight Dahlia did when it came to making money moves. He didn’t realize that they would lose control over everything and that they would become puppets. 

Which was what was happening right now. Not only did he decide to go over her head, he decided to try and go for the Crème De La Crème. Joker, The Clown Prince of Crime himself. Whom, by the way, went absolutely bat shit crazy a little over two years ago when his woman died. So, of course, when that mousy little fucker went squeaking into territory he didn't belong, Joker went nuts and captured him. And what did Vincent do? He cracked under pressure and told him who he worked for. He told him her full name, what she looked like, oh yeah, and her personal phone number. And what did The Joker do? He gave her a lovely little phone call, saying if she didn't come personally to rescue her little mouse friend, he'd kill him, then find her, and tank her whole business that she had built from the ground up. 

The _ONLY_ reasons why Dahlia had even agreed to the meeting was so she could clear the air with Joker, and so she could have the pleasure of killing Vincent herself. Friendship be damned. He had become a liability and had lost her trust. One should never betray Dahlia Steel's trust or piss her off, and Vincent had managed to do both in one day. The blue haired woman wasn't known as The Steel Doll without reason. She was cold, ruthless, and unforgiving; it didn't matter who you were, if you fucked up, you were dead without trace. 

Dahlia grunted at the thought, adding finding a new right-hand to the list of things to do for the day. Right after she dealt with The Joker and figured out how she was going clean up the mess Vincent had created. Hell, she might not even be alive to hire or promote anybody after speaking with the green haired psychopath. 

With these lovely thoughts running though her mind, Dahlia had finally arrived to the location Joker had told her he was holding Vincent. To no surprise of hers, or all of Gotham’s if they were to be asked, it was an old rundown toy factory. The factory seemingly decrepit and abandoned, cast a foreboding shadow with the help of the quickly setting sun as Dahlia parked her car. 

Before stepping out of her Corvette, Dahlia double checked to make sure she had both of her 9mm Glock 22s loaded and safely holstered in their gun harness. Once satisfied she got out and made her way to the side entrance Joker had so politely told her to use. She didn’t even bother to raise the top or lock her car, almost daring someone to fuck with it. She was in a foul mood and she wanted someone to test her. Pressing the buzzer, she waited patiently until two overly beefy henchmen in clown masks came out to greet her, both of them carrying old school Tommy Guns like they were in some 1930’s crime drama. They didn’t pat her down, or confiscate her weapons, they just silently ushered her through the door and down the hallway. 

No one bothered to speak or make small talk. They knew who she was, and she wasn't about to start asking questions, that wasn't what they were paid for. After a few moments of walking through hallways, down a few flights of stairs, and a couple of doors, they reached small white tiled basement area. The room was covered wall to wall with shiny torture and surgical devices, all perfectly placed. There were stainless-steel tables and chairs with leather restraints, all securely bolted to the floor. Off to the side there were industrial sized sinks with detachable spray nozzles. In the center of the room, there was a large, finely grated, drain. The room kind of remind Dahlia of her own basement, this thought made a small smile play at her lips as her eyes finally fell on the two people at the back of the room. 

The first of them being Vincent himself, gagged and bound in one of the stainless-steel chairs, eyes wide and fearful as he saw his boss enter the basement. The second, standing by him, was a tall slender man, shirtless, his pale chest covered in scars and tattoos. His hair a vibrant, toxic green, slicked back with stray strands falling in his face. His lips a deep, bloody red splitting into a chaotic grin, flashing an unmistakable silver grill. Joker, The Clown Prince of Crime, standing there in all his glory as if he held the whole city in the palm of his hand, which, if Dahlia stopped to think about it, he did. 

She smiled pleasantly, all business professional, despite appearance. Stepping forward she spoke calmly, her voice holding none of the anger she felt towards her colleague or the irritation she felt for being in this situation. "Mr. Joker, what a pleasure it is to meet you, my apologies it had to be under such circumstances." 

Joker tilted his head to the side; he expected the little mouse he caught to be exaggerating or even lying when he described his boss. It wasn’t that he disapproved of her choice of appearance, he was mostly just surprised that someone so small and pretty could hold so much power and fear over another human being. The woman before him stood a short 5 foot 3 inches, and while she was very petite, she was also very curvy. Her skin was almost as pale as his and covered in just as many tattoos. Not only that, her long windblown hair was a blinding shade of lightning blue and her eyes a piercing peridot green. Dahlia had come dressed in an expertly cut black denim jacket nearly eclipsed in various patches and buttons, a fitted white V-neck, distressed black skinny jeans, and heeled combat boots. She also sported 1in gauges, black painted lips, and sharp stiletto black nails. 

Once Joker realized that Vincent had actually under exaggerated The Steel Doll, the man burst into a fit of maniacal laughter. "The pleasure is all mine Dollie; after all I've been hearing so much about you from this little mouse of yours." Dahlia scrunched her nose at the nickname as he turned to the trembling man strapped to the chair. "What's your name again?" He asked cheerfully while removing the gag from Vincent’s mouth. 

Shaking and stuttering Vincent answer, "V-vincent Mr. Joker." His head then swiveled to Dahlia, whimpering, "Look Dahlia, I'm sorry, I should have listened, I shouldn't have-" 

Dahlia’s professional demeanor vanished the moment she heard his pathetic start to a string of pitiful excuses. She rolled her eyes, a disgusted groan making its way past her beautiful lips. With one swift motion she pulled her Glock from its holster and put a bullet perfectly between Vincent’s eyebrows. Death instantaneous. He knew what was coming, he knew the moment Joker captured him that he was a dead man. It hadn’t been Joker that he feared though, it had always been Dahlia, and he had quietly been hoping Joker would get bored and kill him before Dahlia arrived. No such luck though. 

"WOAH! WOAH!" Joker exclaimed, waving his hands around. He looked back and forth between the smug Dahlia and the dead Vincent still strapped to the chair. 

"Sorry about that, his squeaking was getting on my nerves." Dahlia stated calmly, holstering her gun, no longer needing it for the moment. 

"I thought he was your right-hand man, your best friend! I wouldn't have bothered wasting my time tying him up, IF YOU WERE JUST GOING TO KILL HIM ANYWAYS!" Joker screamed, gesturing towards Vincent. He huffed, pulling off his purple latex gloves and throwing them to the ground. He had really been hoping to fuck with her by torturing her friend in front of her, but that little game was now circling the drain along with the blood from Vincent’s head. The bastard had managed to forget to mention that his boss was a crazy, psychotic bitch who liked to shoot people just because they got on her nerves. 

Dahlia continued to speak calmly, unbothered by Joker’s outburst. "The key word is, was, Mr. Joker. Did he tell you that he went over my head to try and get into business with you? The moment he did that he was as good as dead. I don’t appreciate dishonesty, disloyalty, nor betrayal. I do, however, appreciate the fact that I was able kill the stupid little fuck myself." She smiled a wicked little grin. 

Joker narrowed his cold blue eyes at the strange woman standing before him. She reminded him of someone, and he didn't quite know how to handle it. He spat and growled, irritated that he was intrigued by her. "Whatever, but when you leave, you get to clean up the mess. Got that, Dollie?" 

"That’s fair. Oh, and by the way, it’s Dahlia, not Dollie." She said flatly, her smile disappearing. Her words sparked anger back into Joker’s eyes, he didn't like being corrected nor told what he could or could not do. Before his anger could be set aflame the green-eyed woman continued onward, unfazed, "Now that that's settled. How would you like to talk business Mr. Joker? This can of worms has already been opened it seems, we might as well see what they taste like."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vincent may be a completely dumb ass, but without his stupidity Dahlia and Joker never would have met!
> 
> Please comment, I'd love to know what you guys think! Feedback and critique will always be welcome!


	3. Conditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:**Nothing too bad happens. Well someone's life get's threatened?
> 
> Also Dahlia and Joker don't bicker like normal people.
> 
> I don't own the DC Universe characters or anything in it. I just merely borrowed them for a short period of time.

****

#### 

**June 21st, 9:00 p.m.**

They had been sitting in Joker's office for ten minutes. He was sitting in a luxurious, high back chair. It was more of a throne really with its deep purple cushioning and golden accenting on the wooden lining. Dahlia was sitting in a smaller, less throne like, but still very comfortable purple chair on the other side of a large, obscenely large, hand carved, desk. The thing must have weighed a ton. She briefly wondered how the fit the damn thing through the door. 

Peridot green eyes met icy blue, and Dahlia resisted the urge to roll hers heavily. She was starting to lose her patience. Usually, business related endeavors weren't much of a challenge for her and she was able to keep herself calm, cool, and collected. That was before she met the Joker. All he had been doing since they sat down was fucking stare at her with his chin resting lightly on his interlocked fingers, his elbows propped up on the edge of the desk. His whole body language infuriated her. It was like he was taking his time, just because he could. 

After another 5 minutes of the constant staring, patience officially lost, "Mr. Joker, are you even remotely interested in talking business? Or are we just wasting time?" 

"Dollie Dear," She growled low in her throat, but didn't interrupt further, "Time is spent not wasted." He stated nonchalantly before lapsing back into silence. 

Dahlia blinked several times, trying to wrap her mind around his words. What he said, made absolutely no sense to her in the context of which it had been spoken. Not to mention the asshole kept calling her Dollie. Huffing, she continued to try to open the subject, "Well, the philosophy of time aside, I would personally prefer to stay out of your affairs and you out of mine. What are the chances of us going our separate ways, you with my deepest apologies over this debacle, along with a clean basement, and me with Vincent's body, that I will dispose of personally and properly?" 

Joker mulled the proposition over. He didn't have need or want her business, if he did, he could just kill her and take it for himself. He could just kill her for fun anyways and forget about the whole ordeal. Something she was probably aware of; he could tell she was intelligent. These facts aside, there was something in her eyes, a madness constantly sparking within them. It reminded him of her. Then again, at the same time, it didn't. This wasn't a madness the woman was unaware of; she was fully aware of her own insanity. Bringing it out of her and showing it to her like her own reflection was entirely unnecessary. She just didn’t display it in the same ways as he and Harley did. She concealed it like a lethal weapon, pulling it out only when needed. That factor alone intrigued and entertained him. It had been a long time since he had been intrigued and entertained beyond playing his usual games. She also had one hell of a backbone; most people cowered in fear sitting across from him. This 'Steel Doll' however, just stared him down, her impatience written in the grinding of her teeth and the narrowing of her green eyes. He could respect that, but he knew he could get impatient as well. He wondered whose impatience was more frightening. Could she keep up with him, or would he kill her in the process? Killing her would be fun, but getting to know her and finding out how she ticked would be enthralling. Not to mention crawling under her skin and breaking that cool mask of hers was proving to be quite enjoyable. 

Joker smiled, a slow stretch of his blood red lips exposing every inch of his silver grill. Finally, finally, deciding to answer her question, "Yes, all of those things will be happening. Well, aside us from going our separate ways.” 

Dollie nodded, expecting as much, "Well, I assume since Vincent cracked like an egg, you know just about everything. What do you propose? Or, are you just going to kill me here?" She asked nonchalantly with a tilt off her head. 

Upon hearing her words, Joker let out an uproarious laughter, the sound bouncing off the walls as he held onto his stomach. "OH DOLLIE! I'm not going to kill you. Not yet anyways, we'll determine that on a later date." He cleared his throat, clasping his hands together on the desktop and leaning in closer towards her, a crazed sparkle dancing within his eyes. "No, we are going to do business together. BUT. Under MY conditions. You're right, Vincent did tell me everything. He told me all of those pretty little numbers you have accumulated. How many men you have. The different products you push. How much you push them for. He told me all about how you produce everything in house. Also along with the help you get from Mexico and Columbia. Oh, and of course, the number one number, your profit." 

With each piece of information Joker ticked off, Dahlia’s rage grew like a monster in her chest. She ground her teeth together loudly. That bastard had given him everything, if she could kill the fucker twice, she would, but this time slower. Joker noticed her shifting anger, but he continued onward without comment, his amusement of her growing. "First, you will get rid of anyone who was close to that little mouse of yours, I don't particularly like dealing with his kind. In their place you will bring in some of my hand chosen men and appoint one of them as your new right-hand." Dahlia nodded, that was simple enough, it would be fun even. It's not like she was close to her henchman anyways, she led them by fear and money. If he was willing to give her bodies that worked for her and did as told, those close to Vincent were expendable. In all honesty, she probably would have killed them anyways, even without the prompt. 

Acknowledging her nod Joker continued with his conditions, "Second, if you are to be in business with me, you will attend weekly meetings that I hold in my club, dressed appropriately. Which means no more flying under the radar for." Dahlia grit her teeth again, not liking it, but accepting it regardless, her plan of going unnoticed was ruined now anyways. 

"Third, because you are to now be my business partner, there will be times when I will call on you for your services, in return if you need help, and I am able to offer it, I will happily oblige." This one Dahlia didn't have any issues with. It would be beneficial for both parties. Plus, who could complain much about having The Joker in their back pocket? 

"Last, but certainly not least. I will be taking sixty-five percent of all of the profit you pull in." 

At this Dahlia jumped out of her chair, slamming both of her hands down on top of the obscenely large desk. "SIXTY-FIVE PERCENT? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE JOKER?" 

Joker wasted no time in jumping up and firing back, his own fists slamming down on the heavy wood, "MY CONDITIONS DAHLIA! MINE! DO NOT MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF!" He roared. Suddenly whipping out his gun, he pressed the cold barrel against her forehead and pulled back the hammer, a click resounding as a round slid into the chamber, "Or, we could just settle this right now. I kill you and take your business for myself, one hundred percent." 

Dahlia hated the thought of him taking over half of her money. She didn't care about the gun pressed to her head, or the fact she could be dead if he decided to pull the trigger. Death was not something she feared. She just didn't want him to have what she built. It was hers, she earned it with her own blood, sweat, and tears. She wouldn't let him have it, not all of it anyways. 

"Fine," She spat, venom seeping into her words, "Sixty-five percent, _BUT_, I run my business the way I want to. So, I will get rid of the ten men that I know were close to Vincent. I will take your eleven men in their stead and I will appoint one of them as Vincent’s replacement. I will show up to your meetings in whatever attire necessary and give you adequate updates. I will show up when my services are required. And I will give you the Sixty-five percent of my fucking business. _BUT_, I will do it my way! Got it?" She finished, staring him down fiercely. 

Joker smiled, satiated for the time being and removing the gun from her forehead, "Now, that's more I like it. _Good girl_. Feel free to do things your way, just as long as you comply with my conditions, we'll be peachy keen and a can of gasoline." The smile vanished and his features went flat, "I will send the eleven people with you tonight when you leave. I have your number; Monday I will message you with the directions to my club and the time you will need to be there. Don't, be late. Now, you are free to go, just don't forget to clean up the mouse. See you Monday, Dollie Baby." 

Hissing, Dahlia turned around sharply to exit the office, slamming the door behind her. She never wanted to get into business with someone like Joker, but now she had to play the hand she’d been given and it wasn't like she could just fold without losing everything she had worked so hard for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Joker's conditions are set. He's taken an interest to our lead heroine. Let's see what tomfoolery will occur.
> 
> I hope you are enjoying the story thus far!  
Please comment, I'd love to know what you guys think!


	4. The Dollhouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:**More death inside. Also it's kind of long because I really wanted to give you guys a good mental image of The Dollhouse.
> 
> Also Dahlia basically throws a temper tantrum.
> 
> I don't own the DC Universe characters or anything in it. I just merely borrowed them for a short period of time.

****

####  ****

**

June 21st, 10:04 p.m. 

**

Dahlia stayed true to her word and set about cleaning up Vincent’s mess. Like hell she was calling it hers, it was Vincent’s fault he was dead, ergo it was his mess. Joker didn’t come down to the basement the whole time she scrubbing away at congealed blood. The smell of hydrogen peroxide and bleach laying thick in the air. The blunette had been continuously impressed by the stock the basement carried. She had found face masks, goggles, latex gloves, and a full body latex suit. Not to mention the massive amounts of plastic and ductape. She was tempted to make use of one of those industrial sized sinks, but thought better of it, deciding she could make use of Vincent’s corpse and would need to take it with her. 

Dahlia had also made sure to line the trunk of her Corvette in plastic, along with Vincent's body. He had fucked up enough when he was alive, he was not going to fuck up the interior of her car while dead. After depositing said body into trunk and securing it tightly, Dahlia let out an exasperated sigh as went to take off her protective gear. Now that that was finished, she was free to leave and return to the sanctity of her club, The Doll House. She was rather surprised that no one had connected the dots about her and her identity yet. She put it all out there, glaring at them in their faces. Dahlia Steele, Steel Doll, Doll House. The play on words was downright obscene. 

She was just about to get behind the wheel when eleven people, varying in size, race, and gender came walking out of the toy factory to stand by a large van. Dahlia arched a perfectly shaped brow, "Well that was quick." She muttered, looking each one of them over. No one introduced themselves or spoke up. They just stood there. Some looking her over, others just looking away. 

However, one female stood out amongst the rest. She had bright pink curly hair that contrasted beautifully with her ebony skin. Her honey brown eyes were locked onto Dahlia, unwavering and suspicious. There wasn’t a skittish bone in her body. No, her body seemed to bound by tension as if she were ready to strike. Much more like a Viper than a Mouse. Dahlia smiled, a wicked little curvature of her lips. She could respect that. 

Dahlia pointed one of her perfectly manicured fingers at the other woman and beckoned her forward, “You, with the pink hair. What’s your name beautiful?” 

The pink haired woman walked forward, looking the blue haired one up and down skeptically before answering, her voice smooth as silk, "Tianna, but most people just call me T." 

"Nice to meet you T, I'm Dahlia. Congratulations, you've just been promoted. You seem to be much more competent than my last right hand." She said with a wink. 

Tianna smiled smugly, she may not be trustful of her new boss yet, but she was happy that she was picked for the job nonetheless. “Good choice.” She said as she sauntered over to stand next Dahlia. 

Chuckling Dahlia looked back to other ten people standing in front of her. Not really caring to know their names just yet. “As for the rest of you, I am Ms. Dahlia or Ma’am. Just because we’re a bunch of criminals doesn’t mean we have to lack sophistication.” 

There was a collective, "Yes Ma'am!" From the group. 

Nodding in satisfaction, she continued, "There will be a more formal introduction when we arrive to your new home, as for now follow behind me until we get there.” She paused before adding, “And for fuck's sake, don't make it obvious. I don't have the time nor the impatience for incompetence. Mr. Joker is fully aware that I have no problem sending you back to him in a body bag.” 

With that she turned back to Tianna, “T, you’re riding with me. We’ll discuss your job obligations and expectations along the way. Don’t worry about being formal, from here on out we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.” 

"Sounds good to me, I wouldn't have called you Ms. or Ma'am anyways." Tianna stated bluntly, making Dahlia laugh. She was starting to like her a lot more than Vincent already. 

****

#### 

**June 21st, 10:45 p.m.**

The Doll House club stood on the outskirts of the city at the end of a long winding drive way, hidden behind wrought iron fencing. Looking from the outside, one wouldn’t think of it as a club at all really. For The Doll House was a four story Victorian Manor equipped with a wraparound porch and a tea garden. The property was fairly large sitting on 20 acres of land, plenty of room for indoor and outdoor entertainment. The inside held several rooms, all with different themes, to include a large lounge area, dining room, kitchen, library, and a plethora of hidden reading nooks and corners that were rarely used for actually opening up a book. Then there was the attic, of course, which could only be entered by a special key. Keys that were only given to the most elite members of The Doll House and were not to be shared lest they suffer dire consequences. 

However, for all of its elegant Victorian grandeur, the house could not hold a candle to the handpicked staff that worked there. Beautiful women and men of all flavors were scantily clad in doll themed costumes. Their job was a simple one, pleasure, in all forms. They were not to be mistaken for whores working for some greedy, abusive pimp though. No, Dahlia had taken care to only hire those depraved souls who enjoyed this specific line of work. Any pleasure they had to offer was more than consensual, and they were free to leave if they so choose, long as they kept whatever secrets they learned while working for the bluenette. If there were any complaints of customers stepping out of line, Dahlia made sure to handle them, personally. 

At this time of night, the entertainment was in full swing, the sounds of heavy thrumming music, laughter, and moaning could be heard seeping from its walls. It truly was a place for debauchery. A safe haven for those living in the grey area of Gotham. None of them wishing to side with heroes or villains, they all just wanted to live out their lives as they wanted, indulging in all the forbidden delicacies the world had offer and not be bothered. Dahlia gave them that, and it was something she was actually proud of. She made a promise to herself, that no matter what changes Joker made in the future, her club would not be one of them. 

As they drove up through the driveway, they continued to follow it all the way around to the back of the house. Behind the house there was a hidden ramp, descending down into an underground parking garage. It was a necessary structure as they had so many employees and clientele, however Dahlia had made sure it be built underground as to not take away from the visual appeal the rest of the property held. Plus, it made getting to Dahlia’s secret headquarters, undetected, that much easier. 

In the parking garage’s elevator, there was a hidden cabinet, behind it was a biomechanical key pad, one that used optical scanning to grant access to the button panel next to it. That button panel was the only way to access the headquarters of Dahlia’s whole operation. It held laboratories, packaging rooms, storage, a fully functioning kitchen, several dorm rooms for employees to sleep in if necessary, and many other rooms Dahlia deemed necessary to have on hand to keep things running. Also, at the very bottom, sat Dahlia’s personal office and conference room, along with a place she liked to call her playground. 

After they had finished parking, Dahlia got out of her car with T following close behind, they stood, patiently waiting by the trunk as the rest of the henchmen exited van. Clapping her hands together before spreading them wide, she smiled a rather toothy grin and exclaimed, "Welcome to The Dollhouse kiddies! As a forewarning you are about to see the inner workings of my business. I am aware you have a loyalty to Mr. Joker, but after Mr. Joker comes me. You are not to tell anyone outside of here that you work for me. You will not tell anyone who I am, what my name is, what I look like, or what I do. This is nonnegotiable. If you betray me...I will. Kill. You. Personally.” She giggled fiendishly. “With that being said, I have already scheduled a little 'office meeting,' on the way over. So please, follow me." She finished, turning to walk off only to turn back around, "Oh, and before I forget. You, what’s your name?" She said pointing to one of her new henchmen, a tall burly man, with dark tribal tattoos wrapping around his bulging arms, along with a finely groomed beard and a mass of thick black hair. 

Clearing his throat, he answered, “Damian, Ma'am.” His voice a deep, rumbling, baritone. 

“Pleasure to meet you Mr. Damian, if you would be so kind as to please carry that oaf inside with us, I would be ever so grateful.” Dahlia said pressing the trunk release on her car keys. Her tone was cheerful and light as if she were asking him to carry in her groceries instead of a corpse. 

He nodded and rumbled a quick, “Yes Ma’am,” picking Vincent’s body up and hefting it over his shoulder with ease. 

The elevator was actually quite large with a hefty carrying capacity, making it fairly easy for all thirteen of them to fit quite comfortably. Another addition Dahlia had deemed necessary considering the elevator carried a lot more than just people. Once inside, she took the time to go ahead and program everyone into the biometric scanner, as well as deleting those who would no longer be needing access. Then, finally, she pressed the button that would take them directly down to the floor with her office and conference room. 

The ride down was short, but silent, when they arrived the doors opened to a hallway decorated in bold 1920’s Art Deco decor. It wasn’t excessively long the hallway, each end holding large ornate double doors. On the left was the entrance to Dahlia’s office, on the right was the entrance to her conference room. The conference room was decorated much like the hallway, in the center a large table lay, the whole thing lined with comfortable chairs. Dahlia, was of course just as vain as Joker, so at the very end of the table her own throne like chair stood tall in black and gold. 

Dahlia strode in with a palpable air of power, grace, and authority, the seats already full of those important few who she deemed worthy enough to know her. She motioned for Tianna to take her seat while motioning for the others to stand uniformly behind her chair. Some looked upon Damian curiously as he stood there nonchalantly holding what was obviously a body encased in layers of plastic. Some of their faces paled as they slowly began to realize that this was not going to be a pleasant business discussion over drinks and cigars. 

Taking her own seat, The Steel Doll swung one leg gracefully over the other and propped her elbows up on the arm rests, steepling her fingers. "Good evening everyone, what a pleasure it is to see all of you made it. You may be wondering why we are here? Who these people are standing behind me? Why I let this pink haired beauty sit in Vincent's chair? Where Vincent is for that matter? What it is the bearded gentleman behind me is holding what he is?" With every question her voice rose, her rage from earlier building back up and spilling over. She launched out of her chair and slammed her palms onto the table, making everyone jump. The air growing tense. “Would anyone like to take a guess?!” 

“No one? No takers? That’s fine. I’ll show you myself.” She snapped her fingers and motioned Damian forward with her index finger, "On the table please." She said politely, not looking at him while he dumped the body onto the table unceremoniously. Dahlia pulled a switchblade out of her jacket pocket, then pressed the button to release the blade so she could cut open the tightly sealed plastic. As the pieces of plastic fell away, people quickly recognized that it was Vincent on the table. Stabbing the blade down into his chest, Dahlia continued fiercely, "I got a phone call today, from none other than The Joker himself. Want to know why?! Vincent here decided that he wanted to disobey me and betray me by going over my head. ALL THE WAY UP TO THE FUCKING JOKER!! HE THOUGHT HE KNEW BETTER THAN I DID ABOUT GETTING INTO BED WITH HIM!!" 

She stopped and took a breath, at this point people were absolutely terrified. Everyone who worked with The Steel Doll knew better. She never made threats, she kept promises. In this moment, no one was safe, one wrong word could mean their death. 

Dahlia pulled the blade from Vincent’s chest, wiping it on his clothes and closing it before she continued, "I was forced to go to Joker's lair. In person. To clean up the astronomical mess Vincent made. And guess what else? Mr. Joker isn't the one who fucking killed him. Nope, I did. We all know, I don't tolerate dishonesty, disloyalty, OR disobedience. Facts I have proven many times. If you cross me, I don't give a fuck who you are or how long we've known each other. The punishment stays the same. Let Vincent be a lesson to all of you. Don’t. Fuck. Up. Not just because I will kill you, but because when you fuck up so bad that I have to go and clean up your messes, shit changes. Shit like, we are now business partners with Joker, The Clown Prince of Crime. Shit like, some of his people are coming to work with us. Shit like, this pink haired beauty I spoke of earlier, is T. As per Joker’s orders she’s replacing Vincent.” She said pointing to T who gave a short wave in response. Then she was screaming, her voice raising so suddenly again it made people flinch. “ANYBODY WANT TO TAKE A GUESS AT WHAT CHANGES THE MOST THOUGH?! JOKER IS TAKING SIXTY FUCKING PERCENT OF MY GOD DAMN COMPANY THAT I BUILT FROM THE GROUND. THAT MEANS LESS MONEY NOT JUST FOR ME, BUT FOR ALL OF YOU FUCKERS! SO PLEASE, FROM NOW ON, DON'T BE LIKE VINCENT!!" 

Dahlia grit her teeth, breath heaving as she looked over the faces of her frightened peers, her pupils blown with undiluted rage. After a moment of everyone holding their breath, she straightened herself and cleared her throat, "Brad, Jennifer, Hannah, Mark, Tom, Sarah, Zach, Layla, Victoria, and Nathan, I need all of you to head over to my office, now." She waited patiently for the ten people she called off to exit the room before moving onward. "Next week on Wednesday, I will hold another meeting at 9:00 p.m. with more updates and plans on how we are to move forward with this new, change, of plans. For now, that will be all, please go on with the rest of your night." 

With that Dahlia went to make her leave, asking for T and the rest of Joker’s henchmen to follow her, Damian with Vincent’s body again. Just when she was about to start walking, one of her newer business partners stood, their face red with fury, "So you mean to tell me, that none of us are safe? That if we piss you off, that's it? This isn’t what I signed up for Dahlia. I knew you were off your rocker, but, fuck. This is madness. You’re making Joker look like a Saint." 

Dahlia tilted her head to the side, looking at the person perplexed. Everyone knew what they were signing up for. She was very forward with how she ran things, she never sugarcoated when bringing someone into the fold. However, the bluenette was not in the mood for explaining herself, so she simply shrugged, took out her gun, and pulled the trigger. The obnoxious speaker went straight to the ground with a bullet hole steaming perfectly between their brows. "Didn't I just say don't be like Vincent?” She asked, rolling her eyes before roaring, “NOW, EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT!” 

People began to quickly shuffle out of the room, and once again their boss switched from boiling rage to cool politeness, "T, Call Mr. Joker and tell him to send a twelfth please.” T nodded, whipping out her phone to make the call. 

As she holstered her gun for the second time that day, Dahlia turned to another one of Jokers henchman, well henchwoman. She was short, but built like a brick house, it was quite obvious that she was a lifter. Looking her up and down, Dahlia smiled, “You seem capable, what’s your name?” 

The woman answered, her voice a low rasp, “Lynn.” 

“Lynn, nice to meet you. Can you carry that,” She pointed to the body on the ground, “With us?” 

Lynn smirked and gave a short nod, “Sure thing Miss. Dahlia.” She answered going to pick up the dead figure, just as graceful as Damian, she was even careful not to get the blood anywhere, wrapping the person’s head in the jacket they had been wearing. 

Dahlia clapped in approval, “Oh, you are just perfect. I didn’t even have to ask.” 

With that, Dahlia strode out of the meeting room and down the other end of the hall to her office, Tianna and the henchpeople close behind her. All ten of the people’s names that she had called earlier were waiting outside nervously. "Good, I'm glad you're all here," She said cheerfully pushing past everyone to open her office door, it also was equipped with an optical scanner. When she opened the doors, one could see that the office was floor to ceiling black mirrored tile, a large crystal chandelier hanging directly in the center, art littering the walls and floor. Off to one side held a sitting area with a fully equipped mini bar. The other side held bookshelves, squashy chairs perfect for reading in, and a door leading to a bedroom she frequently used. Along the back wall, directly in the center across from the doors, sat Dahlia’s desk. 

The desk was the focal point of the whole office. The thing was a massive, rough slab, of pure white marble. Carved in the marble were sections for drawers, and on the top a button panel inlay was inserted on the right-hand side. Some said Dahlia had watched Austin Powers one too many times, but she had told them to shove it. She loved her button panel. 

Dahlia quickly led the group of people into the spacious area, going straight for her comfy leather chair behind her desk. “T, you sit there.” She said cheerfully, pointing to a smaller marble desk and leather chair that was positioned behind hers. Sitting comfortably, she waved to some tiles, “Damian, Lynn, you can’t set those meat bags there. Please, thank you.” After the bodies had been deposited onto the floor, Dahlia clasped her hands together. “Perfect. Now, for the eight of you whom I have not learned your names, you will have the rest of night off. I will learn them tomorrow at 6 p.m. sharp, here, in my office. If you need lodging and food, take the elevator up to the first floor. If not have a safe trip home. You may go.” 

After they left, the bluenette turned to look at Damian and Lynn, “I’m sorry to keep you two later that the rest, but have no worries, when you go to leave you will be handsomely compensated for your time. Please, wait outside until you’re called for and don’t forget to close the door.” 

Once everyone was all squared away, Dahlia finally looked to the ten people who were just standing there awkwardly, waiting to learn why they were there. Smiling maniacally, she pressed a button on the panel; a soft whirring followed by a dull thunk could be heard as her office doors bolted themselves firmly shut, making it impossible for even those with access to get in. She then spoke in a crisp neutral tone, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm going to make this quick, because I don't have the time or patience to spend trying to explain everything to you. All of you were close to Vincent in some shape or form, and therefore all of you are liability. In truth, not all of you, that's exaggerating. I mean come on, there's ten of you, but I need to make an example. Plus, I’m on orders from Mr. Joker. So, here we are." 

Without further ado, Dahlia all but pretended that they were no longer there as they started to panic and run for the door. It was a futile effort however; the door wasn’t going to budge. Opening one of the drawers to her desk, the blue haired madwoman pulled out two gas masks. Tossing one to T, who caught it expertly, she giggled, “Here, you might wanna put this on. I’d hate for you to pass out on me.” 

Gas masks securely in place, she pressed another button on the desk panel, clicking noises resonating as the room became air tight. Next, she pressed a third button, this one causing a sharp hissing sound as white smoke quickly filled the room. She started giggling, ear splitting shrieks, counting each of the bodies as they dropped like flies. When she got to ten, she flipped a switch, all of the vents opening, pulling out the toxic air and blowing in fresh oxygen. 

Ripping off her mask, the green-eyed woman sighed wistfully, looking at the mountain of bodies at scattering her floor. T, to her amusement, didn’t look frightened or surprised one bit. “Damn Dahlia, you are one crazy bitch, you know that right?” 

The green-eyed woman nodded, another giggle bubbling from her lips, “I’ve been told that on occasion. I don’t think you have to worry about it though. I like you; you seem to have an intelligent brain underneath all those cotton candy curls.” They smiled at each other for a moment and then Dahlia set to work. She unlocked the door and called for Damian and Lynn. After they came back in, Dahlia flipped yet another switch, one that opened two sections of tile in the floor. One of them was a chute, the other was a spiral stair case leading downward. These were the entrances to Dahlia’s infamous playground. A surgical steel room decked out much like Joker’s white tiled one, all the way down to the huge drain. Everyone who worked for Dahlia, and learned of the playground's existence, knew to fear it. Unless you were specifically invited, if you went down there, you never saw the light of day again. 

Over the course of the next few hours, Dahlia had all twelve bodies shoved down the chute and properly disposed of, all with the help of Damian, Lynn, and T. Joker’s people continued to surprise her, and they were quickly growing on her. They were able to do their jobs quickly and effectively with little instruction. She had gotten so used to having to coach Vincent, it seemed like she had forgotten what it was like to be around competent people. Perhaps teaming up with Joker wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? I kind of wish The Dollhouse existed in real life.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it! Please let me know what you think in the comments section!


	5. Black and Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:** This chapter will include drug usage. Also, I'm not a chemist nor a botanist. This being said, for this story I have invented a drug and will take scientific liberties with how it works and affects the body.
> 
> Also, mild, _VERY_, mild flirting. Don't get too excited.
> 
> I don't own the DC Universe characters or anything in it. I just merely borrowed them for a short period of time.

****

####  ****

**June 24th, 5:15 p.m.**

The rest of the weekend passed by quickly and Monday had finally arrived. Joker’s people really were learning the ropes quite nicely. Dahlia and T were becoming fast friends, the pink haired woman filled out the space Vincent left behind better than Vincent. She wasn’t as psychotic as her boss, but she wasn’t without her own quirks. Dahlia was also warming up to Damian and Lynn quite nicely. They knew how to follow orders, but they were also quite funny Dahlia had learned, so she kept them close to her as muscle and laughter. The rest of Joker’s handpicked team fell into their own niches rather quickly, some went to work in the club, others in the packaging rooms, and one or two had even proven themselves competent enough to work in the laboratories. 

All of these things ran through the blue haired woman's mind as she sat on a stool in her favorite lab. She was currently working on a new drug she had invented all by herself, marketing it towards the more feminine people of the world. Something sexier, dreamier, more colorful, and sweet. 

The drug had been perfected weeks ago and had just finished its final trial period. Soon it would be ready for sale all around Gotham. She was already planning on its debut party for the upcoming weekend, but figured since Monday was going to be her first appearance at Joker’s little meeting, she’d sound off her first appearance with a bright bang. So, she packed a vial of the drug, a vintage style syringe, and some other miscellaneous objects into a very pretty, sparkly pink box, complete with a frilly white bow. She’d take it with her, show it off, and possibly gloat just a little. 

Just as she had finished tying the bow on the box and cleaning her work space, Dahlia's phone chimed with a message from Joker. 

** _Dollie Baby! It's Monday, I expect you at the address listed below no later than 9:45 p.m. The meeting starts at 10 O'clock sharp. Remember to dress appropriately, and don't be late. ;) _ **

** __ **

** __ ** __

_ ** ~J** _

Dahlia clicked her tongue in annoyance as she read through the message. He was the most pompous and arrogant asshole she’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. She was also slowly learning to cope with the fact that he was stuck on calling her Dollie. A fact she detested, she wanted to tell him to shove it, but knew that he was just as unstable as she was and didn’t really want to push it too much. 

Groaning, Dahlia grabbed the decorative box and went to leave The Dollhouse so she could make way to her penthouse apartment. It was relatively closer to Joker’s club, plus at home she could have a few hours of peace and quiet while she got ready. 

#### 

** June 24th, 9:30 p.m. **

Dahlia arrived to the club earlier than was necessary. She would have even without Joker’s insistence, it was just one of her habits. Professional to the core. T had stayed behind to run things by herself, some called it trusting, Dahlia called it testing. 

Joker, with all his kooky quirks, surprisingly ran quite the ritzy establishment. She had heard of its gold crystalline splendor, but she’d never seen it with her own eyes. There were no red-carpets or fancy escorts, but there was Valet and the staff was dressed sharply. Dahlia stepped out of her car and looked at the valet dead in the eyes, “One scratch, one tear, anywhere on my car, and you’ll be begging your boss to convince me not to kill your ass.” She promised, tossing him her keys and making her way up to the bouncer. It seemed that Joker had given him a description, because the moment she stepped up to the bear of man in front of the door, he simply moved to the side and gestured for her to continue on through. 

The moment she stepped through the threshold; the atmosphere hit Dahlia like a tidal wave. The heavy bass of the music thrummed through her and the dull roar of the crowd filled her ears. It made her pulse quicken and her fingertips buzz. She’d hate to admit it, but that obnoxious clown had built quite an amazing place. 

Once the initial shock faded, Dahlia realized she didn’t know where to go and Joker was nowhere to be seen. Therefore, she did the most logical thing she could think of, she made her way to the bar. The moment she sat down, a bartender appeared out of thin air. He was, simply put, beautiful. He was about 5’10, slim, but well built with more curves than a coke bottle. He had sun kissed skin, with a splash of freckles across his nose and cheeks, and two golden earrings glinting in the cartilage of his left ear. His hair had been shaved to a close fade at the bottom, but the top was left a mass of black, finely groomed curls, the tips of which had been dyed crimson. Though the most beautiful thing about him, she noticed, were his eyes. His eyes were a striking cobalt blue, framed by thick lashes, putting Joker’s icy blues to shame. It didn’t help that the guy was dressed to the nines. He wore a white button-down shirt with the cuffs rolled up, the tail tucked into tight fitting black slacks held up by suspenders. A gold and black diamond tie, black leather gloves, and shiny black shoes completed the ensemble. 

Dahlia wasn’t even aware she had been staring until he cleared his throat, a smug little smiling playing at the corner of his full lips. “May I get you something to drink Miss?” 

Snapping out of here daze, Dahlia cleared her through, “Oh, no. Actually, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me. I’m here for a meeting you see. My name is Dahlia” She finished smiling sweetly, trying not to show how much she hated using her name 

“Oh yes. Miss. Dahlia, I’ve been expecting you.” He said cheerfully, though there was a certain amount of mischief dancing in his eyes, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my name is Tiberius, but I insist you call me Ty. Jay told me to keep an eye out for you.” He said lifting up a section of the bar to come around and stand in front of her, holding out the crook of his elbow. “If you would allow me, I’ll escort you to the VIP area where he is awaiting your arrival.” 

Dahlia smiled brightly and linked her arm with his, “Very well, Ty, lead the way.” 

Ty chuckled as he led the bluenette up a set of stairs to a gilded door. With his free hand, the bartender rapped on the door smartly and waited patiently for someone to answer. 

It wasn’t long before the door swung open and jade green eyes met icy blue. Joker's eyes narrowed as they traveled down Dahlia's body, taking in what she had decided to wear. She wore a 50’s Dior dress that hugged all the right curves, the sleeves hanging delicately off her shoulders. The fabric that made up the dress was a deep purple, with matching elbow length gloves and heels. She had pinned her hair up into victory rolls and applied her make-up to emulate that classic bombshell glamour. 

She looked like a goddamned Stepford Wife. It was obvious that she was mocking him, because he had told her to dress, ‘appropriately’. Even so, he wouldn’t deny that she looked damn good, standing there in his doorway, her hands gently holding onto a beautifully wrapped present. 

Dahlia smiled wickedly and spoke in a sugary sweet voice, "Good Evening Mr. Joker, it's 9:40pm, I'm here on time and I came dressed appropriately. This is what you wanted, right?" She giggled. 

Ty covered his mouth, hiding his smirk and stifling his giggle simultaneously. Joker’s eyes flicked to his employee, “Oh Ty sweetheart, I think I hear Aiden calling for you.” He snapped. 

Ty lifted one of his perfectly manicured brows and clicked his tongue, but withheld any other reactions. Bowing and straightening back up, he turned to the lady he had been escorting, “Miss. Dahlia, it was lovely meeting you. I must be taking my leave now; I hope to see you again soon.” With that he sauntered off. 

"Annnyyyways.” Joker drawled exasperatedly, “Dollie, I’m so glad you could make it on time. Please, come in before Ty comes back to sass me.” 

Before she could reply, Joker had a hand at the small of her back, leading her into the VIP room, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to Gotham's very own, Steel Doll, Dahlia Steele." 

Dahlia's lips split into her very best professional smile as she went around and shook hands with The Penguin, Two Face, The Riddler, and Catwoman. "Good evening to you all, what an opportunity it is to meet all of Gotham's most elite and astute criminals.” 

Selina was the first to speak up, "Finally, another female. I was beginning to think it was becoming a real dogpile. Especially since Ivy doesn't really come around anymore," She smiled at Dahlia while shooting a sideways glance at Joker who glared back at her. 

Everyone knew Poison Ivy didn't really keep court with Joker after Harley passed. A fact which Joker didn't really care about, but he still didn't like hearing about it on the account that it always reminded him of his passed love. 

He growled, "Watch it Selina. I know kitties have nine lives, but I have feeling you're running a little low." 

Selina roller her eyes, leaning back into the gold chair she was sitting in, "Cat jokes are only funny when I make them Joker." 

Joker laughed, a cackling sound, before turning back to Dahlia, who was standing by nonchalantly as they exchanged banter, "Well come on have a seat next to me," he said ushering her into the seat next to his which happened to be the only couch in the room. 

Next, The Riddler piped up, "Dahlia, was it? What's in the box?" He asked smiling and chuckling a little. 

Dahlia giggled, deciding to leave all Brad Pit jokes aside and answered, "Business, actually. Mr. Joker said that he wanted updates on all of my business, and this," She said as she gently stroked the satin ribbon, "this is ground breaking. Something I, myself, have worked very hard to produce." 

"Awweh, look everyone, Dollie here as brought us a welcome gift, how sweet," Joker cackled again, as Dahlia rolled her eyes at the nickname, "Well go on, open it." 

Nodding, Dahlia opened the box and lifted the lid. The insides of the box even more pink than outside. Pushing back the tissue paper she revealed the box’s contents. A vial, a vintage stile syringe, a pink tunicate, white latex gloves, alcohol swabs, and band-aids. 

Pulling out the vial, one could see that the liquid inside was a vibrant shade of pearlescent pink. "This is a little injectable I like to call, Princess Nectar. A new, aesthetically pleasing drug, that once it makes its debut, will surely be all the rage with the more delicate and fashionable people of the scene.” 

Joker sat back in the couch, watching her wordlessly as she continued to pull the objects out of the box. She really was fascinating, he never would have thought to create something so pretty to market towards a specific group of people, but it was definitely something that was in high demand. Maybe bringing her in was smart thing to do after all. 

Penguin was now the one to speak up, "Ok, but what's so special about it? Besides the vulgar shade of pink?" He asked sneering at the contents of the vial. 

"Oh Mr. Penguin. This isn't any ordinary drug to pump into your veins. This is an all-natural, hybrid mixture, made of Psilocybe Cubensis, Passion Flower, and Clove. With some other things here and there for color and smoothness. Basically, it's a hallucinogen and an aphrodisiac, but more light, and airy. Nothing like LSD or Ecstasy. Also, since it is an injectable, everything shifts instantly, creating a very interesting starter effect. I'd be happy to give you an example if I had a willing subject to try it." She finished, a clear challenge in her voice. 

Without another word, Joker snapped his fingers. Seconds later a scantily clad girl wearing a mask appeared from behind some curtain tucked into the corner of the room. Smiling, pleased with her obedience, Joker pulled her down into his lap. He brushed her hair aside, and placed soft kisses on her neck. His motions were well practiced and purposefully manipulative. It was obvious that he didn’t care for this girl, and everyone seemed to pick up on that. Well, everyone but her that is. 

Dahlia shrugged and went about getting the syringe ready for the girl. Joker continued to whisper sweet nothings into her ear, telling her to about Princess Nectar, asking her if she wanted to try it. The girl of course, nodded and giggled, snuggling down into his lap. 

Dahlia rolled her eyes and muttered, "Puppet." It was low enough to where the girl couldn't hear, but of course, Joker did, and was then unable to contain his laughter. After all, the blue haired beauty wasn't wrong. 

Settling back into professional mode, Dalia plastered a huge grin on her face, “Thanks for agreeing to try this out sweets. If you wouldn’t mind taking off your mask though? We’ll need to see your whole face, please.” 

The girl looked from Dahlia to Joker, who in turn nodded and patted her on the hip, showing her that it was all right. As she was taking off her mask, Dahlia pulled off her elbow length gloves only to replace them with the latex ones. The bluenette then picked up the pink tourniquet wrapping and tying it around the girl’s arm, two inches above her elbow. Once securely in place, she flicked her veins a few times, making them rise to the top of the skin. She then proceeded to take one of the alcohol swabs and wipe over the crook of her elbow. 

Dahlia giggled, "Just because you like to get high doesn't mean you have to be unsanitary," she said, grabbing the syringe and vial, holding them up to the light as she pulled the plunger down, making the syringe fill and swirl with the pink liquid. Once that was finished and any excess air was pushed out of the needle, she turned again to the waiting girl. 

"Ready?" She asked, the girl giving a short nod in reply before Dahlia inserted the needle expertly into her arm and pressed the plunger down, sending Princess Nectar shooting up her veins. Within seconds her pupils blew and a small moan passed through her soft lips. 

She gasped softly, and whispered looking at Dahlia wide eyed, "You're glowing. Are you an Angel?" 

Dahlia threw her head back and laughed maniacally as she retrieved the tourniquet from the girl’s arm and placed a pink crown band-aid over the insertion mark. Adding even more to the aesthetic appeal. "No. My dear, sweet girl. I am not an Angel. Angel's don't go around sticking needles in to cute girls' arms for money." She patted her cheek sweetly, the small amount of skin contact making her petite form shiver. Everyone in the room was watching the high girl with rapt attention. 

Joker kissed the girl’s neck once more, he on the other hand, was unable to take his gaze away from Dahlia, "Run along and play now." He whispered, the girl groaned, but nodded, getting up and stumbling off behind the curtain. He then leaned forward, watching Dahlia as she placed everything back in the box and closed it. Everyone else staying silent for the moment, satisfied with what Dahlia had to offer. 

"When do you think you'll be ready to put this, Princess Nectar, out on the market." Joker asked sliding a little bit closer to her. 

Dahlia didn't push him away, surprisingly enough, she was too busy basking in her own pride to care, and she couldn't lie, she did love the attention. "This weekend, Saturday, I plan on making a debut of it in my club. It’s going to be thoroughly entertaining." She laughed, turning to Joker, who saw the madness slowly dancing in her eyes, almost getting lost in it. What had he gotten himself into? 

Before he could think more of it, she looked back to everyone else sitting in the room. "Of course, if you would all like, you are all more than welcome to join me for the show." A collective nod went around as everyone agreed to join. "Splendid, I of course will be in disguise, but you can all come dressed as you please." 

Finally, Two Face leaned forward, examining Dahlia. He then flipped his trusty coin, revealing it to have landed on heads. "I think you'll be a lovely addition to our little squad Dahlia dear. Moving forward though. Let's discuss other matters of why we are here tonight. Agreed?" 

Everyone nodded in agreement, and continued giving updates and plans about their own respective businesses. Every now and the conversation being interrupted by a joke of some sort the led into banter, only to be brought back by another party interrupting. Dahlia found, that she was actually enjoying herself. She hadn’t expected it, but slowly a warmth started seeping through her bones, a warmth she hadn’t felt in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bam. We get to see a bit more of Dahlia's personality. Also, Joker being thrown off by her his stupid cute in my brain. I honestly can't wait to get to the point where they are together and I get to add in fluff. 
> 
> I hope you all like Tiberius, because he will be an important side character. Tiberius is a tribute to a very good friend of mine. I've been working on this story for about a year now and he's been supporting me the whole way. I actually put it down for a while until he urged me to pick it back up. So. Tiberius is for him, made in his image. Love you Jackson, and thank you so much for the support you give my writing.


	6. Princess Nectar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:** This chapter will include a smidgen of sexual content. A smidgen being like, the last quarter of the whole chapter. Also more drug use.
> 
> Also Joker getting jealous, but not realizing it's jealousy because he's crap at emotions. I've taken some liberties with his personality and molded it a bit to fit my needs for this story. But, I will try and stay as true to Suicide Squad Joker as much as possible.
> 
> I own nothing from the DC Universe. I'm just using them to make my fantasies come true. All of the Original Characters are mine though.
> 
> **P.S.** In a rush to get the past 5 chapters posted last week, I didn't really get a chance to go through and add notes or decent chapter formatting. So I will be going back and fixing them up a bit. And also, by Tiberius's request, I will be changing McGuire's name to Aiden. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

####  **June 29th, 7:00 p.m.**

**JOKER’S POV**

Saturday, the day of Dahlia’s little debut for Princess Nectar. Joker was sitting at his bar nursing a tumbler of whiskey. Ty was standing on the other side, wiping down glasses to ensure their perfection before the club opened for the evening. No one else was around, so both of them just enjoyed the other’s company in comfortable silence.

Just as he was finishing his drink, his phone let off a tinkling little sound, notifying him that Dahlia specifically had messaged him. As Joker pulled out his phone to read the straight forward message, his red lips formed a grimace, which in turn caused Ty to smirk. 

** _Mr. Joker, I’m attaching a map location for my club. The debut starts at 10:00 p.m., be there before then if you want to catch the show._ **

Really, that girl could use more flourish when she spoke to him. He knew she had it in her too, it was apparent in those little chemical inventions of hers. Why she masked it under that stone-cold business bitch persona of hers, he’d never know. He’d have to talk to her about that when he saw her later that evening. 

Ty set down the class he had been polishing so he could cock his hip and cross his arms, “Jay, you’re a grown ass man pouting at your cellphone like some dejected teenager.” 

Joker’s eyes shot up to glare menacingly at the sassy man standing across from him. Said man responded to the glare by arching one of his eyebrows and pursing his lips together. “Mmm, someone’s triggered.” 

“Listen here, you catty little shit. I’m not in the mood for your highbrow, passive aggressive comments.” 

“Jay if you weren’t in the mood for what I had to say, I would have been dead a long time ago. Yet here I stand, polishing your glasses every night and serving your guests.” Ty answered nonchalantly, adjusting his uniform, purposefully not making eye contact with Joker. 

This made Joker roll his eyes heavily, he would never admit to Ty, or anyone else for that matter, that he enjoyed his company. He got so many free passes, some of his other employees hated the head bartender for it. “Whatever. Look, as of right now you have the night off and are coming with me to Dollie’s tonight. I need you to run recon. See what you can find out about her. I’ve tried running background checks on her and all information for Dahlia Steele stops ten years ago. And no one is divulging any intel they have on her, if they have any on her at all. The best source of information we had died when I met her.” 

Ty stared deadpan at Joker as he rattled on. “That’s why I need to you to run around, see what you can dig up about her, while the rest of the gang and I play house with her.” 

Giving Joker two slow blinks, Ty finally spoke up. “She’s not that gullible to fall for some lame shit like that and you know it.” 

Joker cackled, “Oh no. I’m well aware that little Dollie is as sharp as a tack. That’s why I’ve chosen you. I’m betting on her picking up on why you’re there right away, but you have your wiles about you. Use them on her. Get her to like you. She’ll never trust me, but you, she just might if we play our cards right.” 

Ty smiled, a mischievous little grin, he’d been sold. He loved playing little games like this. “Alright, you got me, I’m in. I’ll go make some calls, fill my spot, and get ready.”

####  **June 29th, 9:45 p.m.**

A few hours later Joker’s crew was pulling up in an actual horse drawn. All six of them dressed extravagantly in Venetian Carnival costumes. The whole spectacle was excessive and unnecessary, but it certainly made a statement. As they came to stop at the entrance, those mingling outside turned and stared, mouths agape.

Dahlia’s staff, unsurprisingly, didn’t miss a beat. T lead a group of Dollhouse employees down the steps and to the carriage so that they could escort them all inside. They were VIPs after all. T smiled and gave a small curtsy. “Good afternoon Mr. Joker and company. Welcome to The Dollhouse. The lady of the house is expecting you, though she apologizes that she couldn’t come greet you herself. She is currently preparing to start the show, but promises to see you the second it finishes. Now, if you would please follow me, we will show you the way.” 

With that the small entourage was led through the doors and was immediately assaulted with Dollhouse’s energy. It was nothing like Joker’s club; Joker’s club was loud, bold, and boisterous. Dahlia’s was like a dream; it was like the house knew all of your deepest, darkest desires and brought them to life. It was sinful, it was tempting, it made Joker wonder how Dahlia had been hidden for so long? 

These thoughts flitted through the jester’s mind as they walked down a few hallways, his attention being grabbed each time they passed they passed by a room with an open door. The debaucheries being performed in those rooms making him cackle maniacally, the scenes going beyond pornographic. The rest of his posse was also marveling at their surroundings, due to their masks you could not read their facial expressions, but it was apparent in their body language that they were impressed by what they were seeing. 

Soon, they arrived to a set of double doors that opened to an in-house theater equipped with a stage and curtains. It wasn’t exceedingly large, only seating thirty-six people. All of the seats seemed to be filled too. It seemed that Joker’s little group were not the only one’s wearing masks however, there were others with masks to hide their identities, and the green haired devil wondered who these people were that were so important they didn’t want others knowing who they were. 

Just as Joker was about to start making guesses to who may be who, T guided them to their own seats, which just so happened to be the entire front row. “Here you are lady and gentlemen, please make yourselves comfortable. The show will begin shortly.” With that T and the other employees left in a quick shuffle, leaving them to chat among themselves. Joker turned to Ty and whispered, “So tell me, what do you think so far?” 

Ty chuckled, “Jay, I’ve been working for you for a long time now, so imagine my surprise when I say this. This place, is nothing like I’ve ever seen before. It’s like something out of a twisted movie or something. Seriously, this is some horror movie shit and we’re all about to die in some weird, satanic, sex orgy sacrifice.” 

This made Joker smile darkly behind his mask, “I know, isn’t it lovely? I’m almost jealous that after this I have to play house while you get to go explore.” 

Ty snorted, “Bitch, if I die here trying to find information for you, believe me when I say I will haunt your pale white ass.” 

Before Joker could snap back the house lights dimmed out and the theater lights came up, bathing the stage in a soft pink. White fog began rolling out from the floor, filling the air with a sweet scent. Joker pinged it immediately, he hadn’t really thought about it before, but this was how Dahlia smelled. Fresh, sweet, and inviting. 

A cheerful little giggle rang off the walls, sounding as if it were coming from all around them. The giggle was followed by a disembodied voice, “My, my, my. What have we here? Could it be that you’re all waiting for little ol’ me?” The giggle resounded again and there was a loud bang as a puff of sparkly white smoke burst from the center apron of the stage. 

Then, appearing from thin air, a figure stepped out of the smoke. The top half of her face was hidden by a gleaming porcelain mask, painted as if it were the face of a shipped porcelain doll. The lower half of her face remained uncovered, but was painted just as intricately as her mask. Electric blue hair was pulled up into tightly curled pigtails, each sporting their own pink laced bow. She wore an adorable bra and panty set made of white chiffon and pink lace. The lingerie set was paired with matching heels, stockings and jewelry. Dahlia. Her image burned into Joker’s mind, making him shift in his seat. His blue eyes flashed with hunger, she looked practically edible, and he would be damned if he denied that he wanted a bite. 

Smiling brightly and posing every so suggestively, she continued, “Did you miss me sweeties? I know it’s been so long since I’ve graced you all with my presence. But you know what that means.” She lilted, “I’ve got something special. Just. For. You.” She wiggled her hips and giggled deviously. “I’ve been working very hard on it, making sure it was perfect. Are you ready for it? Why am I asking? Of course you are.” 

With that she opened her arms wide and the curtains swung open to reveal a stage set. It was decorated like a Victorian living room. The center piece was a velveteen pink chaise lounge and sprawled naked over it like he came with it, was a slim male. Some would say he was too beautiful. His hair, a striking platinum white, was so long it would have fell down below his hips if it hadn’t been braided and placed over his shoulder. He had bright red eyes framed by thick white lashes. His skin was hairless and unblemished and as pale as the moon. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce to you to my favorite little pet, Casper. He has so willingly volunteered to show you how my little gift for you all works.” She turned to Casper and smiled fondly. “Are you ready my lovely?” She asked sweetly. 

A delicate blush dusted across his cheeks and he bit into his plump lower lip, “Yes, My Lady.” 

This reaction made Dahlia purr, “Good boy.” With that she silently made her way to a table set beside the chaise lounge, atop it was a covered silver platter. 

Grabbing it she turned back to the audience and uncovered it, “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you. Princess Nectar!” On the platter lay syringe already filled with Princess Nectar, the vile it was pulled from, and similar equipment from when Dahlia introduced Joker and his crew to the drug. 

She then went about explaining the pink liquid much as she had at his club as well. All while doing so adorning the pink gloves and preparing Casper for the insertion. When everything was in place, she giggled and spoke quietly, “Now, watch closely everybody, as I have mentioned before, the effects are immediate.” With that she placed the needle in Casper vein and released the plunger. A soft whimper rippled from the pale man and his pupils blew. He looked up to Dahlia as if she were some goddess he couldn’t believe was real. 

As she went about cleaning up and placing a band aid over Casper’s insertion mark, Dahlia continued onward. “Casper, sweetie, would you please tell these nice men and women what you’re experiencing right now?” 

The silver haired man turned his head slowly to the crowd, “Everything is glowing, My Lady. It’s like, a kaleidoscope. So many colors, so pretty.” 

Dahlia nodded approvingly, setting the platter back on the table. “Very good, what else? Tell me, what are you feeling?” She asked moving in closer to him, her eyes dragging down his body and landing to his apparent hardening length. 

Everyone’s eyes were glued onto the stage, watching the scene unfold. For those who were regulars to The Steel Doll’s debuts, this was of the norm. For those who were seeing a debut for the first time, this was shocking and flooring. Joker himself was watching with rapt attention, his hunger for the bluenette growing. There was something else gnawing at him, something he couldn’t place. All he knew as that he didn’t like this Casper fellow, his being annoying Joker, though he didn’t know why. Regardless, he wasn’t a fan. 

Joker was pulled out of his momentary lapse of though as Dahlia leaned in even closer to Casper. She was being careful not to touch him as she questioned him again, “Casper, tell me what you’re feeling Baby.” 

The closer Dahlia grew, the more the man squirmed, his face flushing to deep pink. When she was inches from his face and their eyes locked, he let out a high-pitched keening noise. “I feel hot, a-and my skin is tingling. I can feel everything. I-I want-” He stopped and swallowed thickly, the drug beginning to take full effect of him. The aphrodisiacs making his breath come out in heavy puffs. 

“You want what? Tell me. Use your words.” She purred, lifting her hand to brush a few loose strands of his silver hair behind his ear. It was such a small amount of skin contact, but it was enough to make him keen again. 

“My Lady, please, I want you to touch me.” He begged softly, causing a triumphant smile spread across Dahlia’s face. 

“Where do you want me to touch you Baby? Here?” She asked teasingly, running her hands down his chest to his perfectly pink nipples. She rolled both of the nubs between her fingers and pinched them simultaneously. This caused his body to shudder and made the tip of his erect member weep with precum. 

He gasped and gnawed at his lips, trying to quiet his moans. “L-lower.” He pleaded, looking up to her, his red eyes wide. 

Dragging her fingers down, she dug her nails into his pale skin, welts rising in their wake. He cried out, his back arching into her touch, “Look at him.” She cooed, speaking to the audience, “He’s coming completely undone with just the slightest of touches. The hallucinogen and the aphrodisiac are mixing together inside him in perfect harmony. Let’s see what happens if we give him what he wants, shall we?” She asked, taking her right hand and dragging her tongue across the palm, coating it in a layer of her saliva. 

Locking eyes with Casper once more, she wrapped her palm around the base of his weeping erection and gave it a tantalizingly slow stroke. Casper’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and his jaw went slack as he let out a long moan. He gripped the edges of the chaise tightly and began to thrust his hips upward into her hand, his cries becoming wanton. 

Dahlia’s sweet little giggle turned into an uproariously amused cackle, “Oh goodness, he doesn’t seem to be able to contain himself anymore. Look at him go. I wonder how long it will take for him to finish?” 

As if on cue, Casper’s hips began to stutter, “M-my Lady. I - I think - Ah.” The next moment pearly white strands of cum were shooting across his pale chest. Taking her hand from around his shaft, she stood up. Casper whimpered at the loss of contact. “Please, I want more. Everything is so fuzzy. I-I need more.” 

Dahlia leaned down and kissed his forehead affectionately, “You did so good, my sweet, and don’t worry you’ll be taken care the moment the curtains close, alright? Just be a good boy and wait.” 

When she finished saying this, Dahlia sauntered back to where she first appeared, the curtain closing behind her. “As you can see, Princess Nectar is highly effective. It will make you see the world through a fanciful lens that reality cannot give you. The pleasure that you will feel will be immeasurable. While being all natural, with no harsh chemicals. You won’t just feel like royalty, you will feel omnipotent.” She smiled out at the audience, each of them hanging onto her every word. “For tonight, and tonight only, we will be giving out Princess Nectar for you all to try for free. All you have to do as ask. So please, indulge yourselves, we at The Dollhouse are here to serve. Ladies and gentlemen, until next time, I bid you farewell.” 

With that, another loud bang resounded as another burst of smoke appeared, and Dahlia was gone without a trace, signaling that the show was over and the debut for Princess Nectar had begun. 

Ty turned to Joker and blinked slowly, “What the actual fuck?” 

Joker shook his head, trying to clear himself of the complicated feelings that were beginning to roar within his mind, “My thoughts exactly Ty, my thoughts exactly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you have it folks. Like I said just a smidgen of smut. Nothing too in depth, because I mean. As lovely as Casper is, he really is Dahlia's pet. He's super adorable and super sweet. He deserves better. 
> 
> Which also brings me to another point, I don't have the intentions of Dahlia being liked by everyone. As a matter of fact she will do certain things that will cause people to dislike her. Possibly hate her. My bad, but I'm trying to be realistic with someone in her position and with her past.
> 
> As always though. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading, please comment, I love feedback and critique!


End file.
